


The Only Force

by megyal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-22
Updated: 2008-05-22
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malfoy is an unwilling victim of a love-spell. Harry is a willing victim of his attentions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Force

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Belated birthday to [](http://lire-casander.livejournal.com/profile)[**lire_casander**](http://lire-casander.livejournal.com/), who asked for the prompt of _H/D, falling in love_.

Harry was walking along the large corridor to the Great Hall, laughing and talking with Ron, Seamus and Neville as they ambled off towards lunch, when he heard urgent yells behind him and the sound of pounding feet against the stone floor. He looked over his shoulder curiously, and all he saw was someone swooping down on him, grabbing him around the waist and spinning him around. He gasped as he was pressed against the closest wall, the stone cold against his back, and kissed thoroughly.

It might have been a bad idea to open his mouth in protest. A tongue slipped in and slid against his; Harry felt a firm thigh insinuate between his legs and a lean body crowd against him, claiming his mouth with impatient desire.

He wondered if it was an unmanly action to kind of swoon against the person kissing him. Oh hell, he was going to do it anyway, even though he could see that the person kissing him was tall and blond and kind of sharp at the edges--

"Malfoy?!" he yelled against the other boy's mouth, and a moan vibrated against his lips.

" _Harry_ ," Malfoy whispered fervently as he broke the kiss just a little, his lips still brushing against Harry's. Harry was kissed again, and if Malfoy wasn't yanked away from him, there would have probably been a very heated scene right there in the corridor with the end-result of stopping Ron's heart completely.

"No, no, _no_ ," Malfoy keened, as if he was in pain, reaching out for Harry with one hand. Crabbe was holding him back, his meaty fingers clutching Malfoy's shoulders. "Harry, _please_."

"What the bloody buggering hell is going on?!" Ron's face was as red as his hair as he stared at Malfoy, who was struggling mightily. Harry was still pressed against the wall, his glasses askew, eyes wide. "Harry!"

"I don't know, Ron," Harry said slowly, blinking. He looked at his friends; Neville and Seamus had their mouths wide open in shock. Ron was clenching and unclenching his fists.

"It was an accident, it's none of your concern," Parkinson said smoothly as she stepped from behind Crabbe's rock-like figure.

Ron begged to differ, loudly. "He had Harry pinned to the wall! Of course it's our concern! What the hell are you freaks up to?"

"What's going on here?" Hermione's voice floated from behind them and Ron whirled with the desperation of a man searching for some sort of salvation. Hermione and Ginny were standing there, staring at the lot of them curiously.

"Malfoy kissed Harry," Ron intoned in despair. "With _tongue_."

"I always miss the good stuff," Ginny muttered and Hermione elbowed her. "What? It's true!"

"Why did he do a thing like that?" Hermione questioned.

"It was an _accident_. It's not because Potter is attractive or anything," Parkinson sneered and then flinched as Malfoy pulled free from Crabbe and whirled on her.

"How dare you," Malfoy hissed. "You have no idea, don't you? Have you ever taken a good look at him?" Malfoy flung a dramatic arm in Harry's direction. Harry still looked shell-shocked. "Look at his eyes! They're as green as a quiet forest in the morning. And his hair! I don't think I'll shall ever tire of those artfully tossed black locks."

Everyone blinked.

"I think I have to go puke," Crabbe finally said in a bland voice.

"I'd join you, if I wasn't afraid that you'd kill me," Ron said miserably. "Hermione! Fix this!"

"I can't if I don't know the strength of the love-potion they messed up," Hermione replied. "And it was, right?"

Parkinson folded her arms across her chest, and said nothing.

"Harry, my dove," Malfoy was pleading. "Come away with me, meet me tonight, we will make sweet, sweet love until the dawn."

"Oh my god," Ron groaned, and caught sight of Harry's contemplative expression. "Harry!"

"It's not like there are a lot of other gay blokes around here," Harry said sulkily, straightening his glasses. "And... well, you know. He's not that bad-looking."

"Yeah," Ginny said eagerly. "Oh goodness, you two would look _so hot_ together."

"You be quiet." Ron glared at his sister and grabbed Harry by the arm. Crabbe snagged a snarling Malfoy as he lunged jealously towards Ron.

"It'll wear off soon," Hermione said when the yelling and cursing died down; Ginny looked disappointed. "Considering these effects, he probably won't recall a thing tomorrow and be back to his normal disgusting self. Just give it time."

"Smartest witch, so they claim, and all she says is 'give it time'," Parkinson said with a curl of her lip. "What a gyp."

"Just keep him away from Harry," Ron said darkly. "I mean it. Come on, you too, shut your traps. We have lunch to go to." He dragged Harry off; Neville and Seamus scuttled behind him, their eyes still as round as saucers. Harry looked behind quickly, past Hermione and Ginny who were walking behind them arm in arm. Malfoy had a forlorn expression on his face as he was held still by Crabbe, but as soon as he saw that Harry was looking, he brightened and blew a kiss.

Harry made sure that Ron didn't see when he snatched it surreptitiously out of the air, an invisible kiss-Snitch, and pressed it against his cheek.

* * *

Harry slunk out of the Gryffindor tower, clutching his invisible cloak tightly around himself. It had been hard getting away from Ron's eagle-eyed vigilance. Harry had gone to bed early, claiming exhaustion from Malfoy's ardent attention. Ron, who had spent all day batting away hovering love-notes away from Harry with the proficiency of a professional tennis-player, had lain in his own bed across from Harry's and given him a long stare.

"What?" Harry had said, feigning a yawn.

"I know you, Harry," Ron pointed out. "Don't think I don't know what you're thinking."

"Thinking?" Harry's voice was the pinnacle of innocence.

"Yes," Ron said through gritted teeth. "Which is why I'm going to stay awake and make sure you don't go sneaking off."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ron," Harry had scoffed as he closed his eyes, injecting as much Hermione-ness as he could into his voice. "I have no idea what you're on about."

He had waited until, predictably, Ron's faint snores began. He waited even longer, just to make sure, and then slid his hand under his pillow, grabbing the cloak. Moving quickly and with a furtiveness he'd developed as a child at the Dursley's, he'd made his way along the quiet corridors to the seventh floor, and came to a breathless halt in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

"I need to meet with Draco Malfoy in private," he muttered, doing the requisite three passes and then watching as an arched door melted out of the walls, its silver doorknob gleaming in the flickering light of the wall-sconces. He opened it and entered, leaning against the door as it closed. The room had made itself into a small, cosy space, with two chairs set beside a cheerful fire. Malfoy was seated in one, frowning in Harry's direction. He smiled widely as Harry removed his cloak; he jumped to his feet and raced over to Harry, placing happy kisses on his cheeks and forehead.

"You came!" he murmured and pressed a long kiss against Harry's lips. Harry sighed and slung his arms around Malfoy's neck, delighting in the attention. It was nice being touched this way, being greeted like a desired lover. If he didn't think about tomorrow, he could enjoy tonight. He'd never ever gotten a bouquet of red roses before today, and he was strangely pleased to see them appear by his plate at dinner. Ron had scowled and muttered, Ginny had exclaimed over them and when Ron wasn't looking, she had passed Harry the note she had plucked from the flowers, the note that asked Harry to meet with him in the Room of Requirement. The chocolates, the little folded cranes that had unfortunately met their demise at Ron's hand, the little smiles Draco had sent his direction all day, he'd never been... _courted_ that way before. Yes, courted was the right word, and Harry liked it.

"Harry," Draco murmured as he pressed his mouth against Harry's racing pulse, and then moved a little way up to nibble at his ear. "I love you, I love you."

Harry froze. This wasn't real and he tried to pull away, feeling misery curl in his chest. Draco held on tighter, looking down in his face in concern.

"What is it? What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry stared into his eyes; the grey was soft and warm, not the flinty disdain Harry had been used to in all their years of school. Draco raised one hand and cupped Harry's cheek, thumb stroking his skin gently.

"It's not real," Harry said in a low voice. "You won't feel this way tomorrow."

"That's not true," Draco told him. "I've always felt this way. I always will. Come," he said with a sly smile, pulling Harry to a corner of the room, where a soft, low bed materialised. "Let me show you."

Harry hesitated. How wrong was it to have one night? Just one night, and they'd all go back to normal tomorrow. This night would be his, as long as he wanted to remember it.

"We won't do anything you don't want to," Draco told him earnestly, sitting on the bed and patting the space beside him. "We can sit here and talk, just talk. If you want."

"Really?" Harry sat slowly, and gave him a shy smile.

"Really." Draco reached down, and took his hand, lacing their fingers together.

* * *

Harry woke up quickly, unused to being snuggled. He tried to move, but Draco was wrapped around him, murmuring in his sleep as Harry began to extricate himself from the loving hold. He looked around for the t-shirt that Draco had pulled off his body last night, and found it at the foot of the bed. They had curled up on their sides, hands propping up their heads as they faced each other and talked quietly. He had giggled unashamedly when Draco had recited quotes to him.

"'Love'," Draco had intoned, touching him lightly, as if he would never stop, "'is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend'."

"Who said that?" Harry asked, catching one roaming hand and kissing the palm.

"I did, just now," Draco said with a twitch of his eyebrows as Harry laughed. "Martin Luther King, Junior, he said it first."

"Oh. I didn't know you read Martin Luther King, Junior."

Draco had given him a warm grin and came close for a kiss. This had quickly become heated, soft moans escaping from them both as Draco pressed him back against the bed; Harry allowed his legs to fall open and Draco settled between them quickly, their hips rolling against each other. Harry trembled, feeling the hard length of Draco's cock pressing into his own through the thin material of their pyjama-bottoms and he arched against Draco's mouth, which was sucking on his nipple through his t-shirt.

Draco had sat back, unbuttoning the dark top and sliding it off his shoulders, eyes heated as Harry's hands slid up his stomach. He reached down and took hold of the hem of Harry's t-shirt and pulled it off, returning to his former task of teasing a dark, eager nipple with his tongue.

There had been moaning and wet kisses and thrusting against each other; Harry had come with a choked cry, one hand gripping around Draco's neck tightly, feeling Draco shake against him.

Now, he pulled on his shirt and turned to lean towards a deeply sleeping Draco, placing the lightest kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered in a pink ear, "Even if it wasn't real for you, it's real for me."

He made his way back to the Tower, not noticing the lovely dawn through the tall windows of the castle; Ron was been waiting outside the portrait-hole, arms folded, his stormy expression fading at the abject twist of Harry's mouth.

"I'll wait for you, we'll go down to early breakfast together," was all he said, and Harry merely nodded, slipping inside.

There were few students at early breakfast; Some Ravenclaws, a few Hufflepuffs and Hermione, of course, her surprised eyes raised from her large book when they sat on the bench beside her. She opened her mouth to say something, her eyes landing on a bruise on Harry's neck, barely covered by his collar. Ron shook his head quickly, and she had simply cast a camouflage spell, the bruise fading away.

Harry twirled his spoon in his porridge, not tasting it at all as he took a slow sip. He started as something appeared beside his plate.

A rose, a single white one in full bloom. A small note was attached to it and Harry picked it up, opening it and staring at the neat handwriting.

 _It's still real for me_.

Harry smiled happily, Ron made a resigned face and Hermione buried her face back in her book.

"I'll have to make sure and tell Ginny," she said brightly and Ron thumped his head on the table.

 _fin_


End file.
